Tom Ratchford fought for Jackson County residents all his life

Tom Ratchford was in classic form just a month ago, when he attended a Jackson City Council meeting to gripe.

Leaning on a cane, Ratchford accused City Hall of favoritism, or at least unfairness, in parking assessments to downtown property owners.

Brad FloryHis fighting spirit was unbent even though he was sick with cancer.

"That's right," I said to myself. "Give 'em hell, Tom."

Jackson lost that fighting spirit when Ratchford died Saturday at age 81. He will be buried today.

Twenty years ago, everything I heard about Ratchford was intimidating. At that time, I was the new county-beat reporter for the newspaper and he was a county commissioner regarded as something like king of the county board.

People said he was powerful, gruff and combative. Some called him a "good old boy."

This reputation was true and false.

County government had fierce factionalism then, and Commissioner Ratchford had outspoken political enemies. He seemed to relish a fight, and sometimes he lost his temper.

Gruff, maybe, but Ratchford was also friendly in casual encounters and loyal to his friends. Even enemies rarely questioned his motives.

Ratchford spoke his mind and did what he thought was right. Worse things could be carved on a tombstone.

The "good old boy" stuff sprang largely from Ratchford's habitual opposition to hiring expert consultants and professional administrators in county government.

Foes assumed that was his way of holding power, but I came to believe they were wrong on that point.

Ratchford had real confidence in ordinary people to run their own government. And he was stingy with their tax money.

He believed people elect politicians to make decisions. He believed people lose control when elected officials hire professionals to tell them what to do.

His position grew obsolete, but he came by it honestly.

Ratchford was a pure product of Jackson. He was 6 years old when his father, a city firefighter, was murdered on duty. He never forgot the loss.

Once a police officer, Ratchford quit the force to run a coney joint. He and his wife, Stella, raised a family within sniffing distance of Schlenker's Sandwich Shop. He hung out at the P.L.A.V. In later years, he arranged bus tours to casinos.

Ratchford had faith in the ordinary people of Jackson because he knew them so well, even if he did happen to be king of the county board.